The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1887-03-16

IL.
l have not, 80 far, given Lieuteant
ID. father, reputation for veracity in
his stories. The mention of the Nigi-
lance Committee few moments ago re-
minds me of one on him which will IL
lustrate his character in another respect
In 1850 he was in a mining camp then
called Hangtown, but now known as
Placerville. Hangtown was well named,
for it was the headquarters of the Vigil
lance Committee in that portion of the
State, and more hangings of lawless
characters were going on there per hour
than In any other village, town, or city
on earth. The little community had
long suffered from horse and mule thieves.
but the scoundrels were so adroit and
knew the country so we'll that they were
seldom captured Once in while, feel
ing secure, one would become indiscreet
or unwary andwould be captured and then
tried before court of igllantes. The
leader of this gang of thieves had never
been caught, and things got so bad that
finally determined effort was made,
and he was captured while riding away
on another mans mule. He was brought
to camp, pleaded not guilty, but was
sentenced to be hanged on the following
morning. D., who was a member of the
Vigilance Committee. was detailed to
guard the fellow during the night.
One by one the tired miners went to
sleep. Night settled down, and d. was
left sitting on box, his rifle across his
knees, while the outlaw was bound Sc
curely with ropes and tied with his back
to a tree only few feet away. The over
land mail had arrived that day, and
along toward midnight D. lighted a can
die and began reading a Cincinnati news
paper in an endeavor to make the long
hours pass quickly. The camp was in
tall pine forest-the treetops so close to-
gether that they shut out any light from
the stars Here and there could be
seen miners, rolled up in their blankets,
fast asleep on the ground. A few smol-
derDg fires still gave a little light; now
and then q momentary fame would shoot
up from one of them, Frightening the
dark night but little, and then through
the gloom could be seen d. guarding the
prisoner. All was quiet. d. was read
ing home news, when the prisoner, who
had seen the name of the paper, printed
in large type at the top of the page,
broke the silence by saying in a low
voice:
Stranger, will you let me say a few
words to you2 I've got only few
hours, and want to speak to you
little"
eyes" answered D., in a surly tone,
Ego on"
''Do you hail from Cincinnati, my
friend. see you are reading a Cincin-
natl newspaper and that was my home,
aud / would like to ask you. if you ever
go back that way, to tell little lie for
me, and say 1 had been killed fighting
the Indians, for it would break my poor
old fathers heart if he heard the
truth"
I'm do it," answered D. "But don't
call me your friend.
Something familiar in the prisoners
voice struck D., however, and as the
man talked D. wondered where he had
heard that voice before, and finally
settled on the man as Bill S., who had
been big boy and in a higher class at
st. Francis Xavier's College when he
himself was little hoy there. And in
the tall, broad -shouldered, brawny- lcok-
ing outlaw, his face hardened by eX-
posure and dissipation, could still he
seen the likeness of the schoOlboy who
had run away from home TO California.
Excuse me, said the prisoner, ''for
calling you my friend, but you were
reading a paper from my home, and it
seemed to me I had seen you before.
Did you 90 to the Jesuits' school in
Cincinnati when you ere a little boy,
for your face reminds me of youngster
l knew there whose name was D., Frank
d., l think l remember him very
well, because one day he was being but
lied by bigger boy; he was delicate
and couldn't defend himself, and /
turned in aud laid the bully out.
''i es, Bill, said d., II was the boy and
remember it all. But am sorry TO see
you where you are. 1 didn't think you
had gone 50 low. And now, Bill, you
have got to die in the morning, and if
you have any messages that you want
to send home you had better give them
to me, for your time is short. | will
tell the lie you asked me to tell, and if
necessary will cover it up with thou
sand more"
After remaining in silence for some
time and evidently in deep thought, D.
continued "Bill, do you think after
this expeIien G, If you were free again,
that you would lead a decent lie and
be ONE a good citizen. "Yes,' said
Bill, II would, but there's no show for
me now
''Wen. Bin, if you viii promise me
faithfully that You will never steal again